


Honor Over Hate

by wolfiefics



Series: The Ashante Vende Stories [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, second in the Ashanti Vende series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 20:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21151529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Qui-Gon and his first apprentice, Clea Tari, meet up with Ashanti to solve a Jinn family riddle.





	1. Chapter 1

Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Knight, looked down at his apprentice with a startled expression. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching her play with the wires at the door's lock console.

She looked at him like he was dense. "Picking the lock," she answered, rolling her eyes and going back to her work. Qui-Gon thought for a thirteen year old apprentice, she was terribly smart-mouthed.

"I can cut through the door faster, Clea," he informed her.

She grinned. "This is more fun!" It was Qui-Gon's turn to roll his eyes. Sometimes his apprentice was more like his former master, Ashanti Vende, than he was. It was probably why he had chosen the girl as his first padawan learner. That and she made him laugh, a hard thing to do, as even Ashanti would attest to with a grimace.

"Well, hurry up," he order and she stuck her tongue out at him. "That was dignified," he muttered, glancing back down the hallway for any sign of guards.

"You notice I reserve that gesture for you alone, Master. A sign of deep respect where I come from." Considering they were both raised in the Jedi Temple since early ages, the statement was ludicrous. Qui-Gon decided against commenting. The console popped and sizzled and she drew her hand back quickly, muttering unintelligible words under her breath that Qui-Gon conveniently didn't hear. "Damn thing. If I were you, I'd start cutting, Master." She gestured the door. "This wasn't as easy as I thought."

Qui-Gon quirked a grin at her. "Told you so," he informed her with the air that only a master could pull off. She nodded obediently, but he knew there wasn't an obedient bone in her body unless she wanted to be obedient. Just like Ashanti. "You should have been Ashanti's padawan, not mine," he hissed at her, thrusting his green lightsaber deep into the thermisteel door. The metal began to heat, turn yellow and slide away like mud.

"We would have killed each other the second day out," she informed him. He grinned. That's what he always told Clea, but inside he reserved judgement. Qui-Gon's former master and his padawan had not met yet, and Qui-Gon wasn't sure he was ready for that event anyway. Rebels all three, Qui-Gon was the least rebellious of them, and that wasn't saying much. Ashanti Vende lived with the motto, "Don't break the rules, but just bend them. A lot." She tested the patience of the Jedi Council more times than Qui-Gon was prepared to admit. He loved his former master dearly, but she had driven him nuts sometimes. That, he had discovered with his own padawan learner, was a master's privilege and practically only joy. Padawans were created for a master's entertainment.

It backfired with Clea Tari. Masters were created for her entertainment. Qui-Gon smirked. It was a good thing he had a sense of humor and a huge amount of patience, otherwise, some other master would have beaten her to death by now.

He began to rotate the saber around, opening the whole wider for them to step through. "You'd make a great thief, Master Qui-Gon," Clea chuckled, glancing down the hallway this time. "Uh-oh, here they come!"

Qui-Gon grunted. "Can you hold them off by yourself? I'm almost finished."

Clea gave him a jaunty grin. "But, of course! I was trained by the best, you see. He knew all the tricks in the book!"

"Knew?"

"Unfortunate, it was. He was cutting open a door and got blasted by some really ugly guards."

Qui-Gon looked down, startled, and saw a blaster muzzle poking it's way through the hole. He'd been concentrating so much on bantering with Clea and keeping an eye out for guards he didn't think of what could be in the room. He dove and the bolt missed him by so much of an inch. "You distracted me!" he accused as he rolled into the wall to avoid more blaster fire.

"I did no such of a thing, Master. It's not my fault you're not paying attention!" She looked insulted, but Qui-Gon knew otherwise. They were too close to take each other's banter seriously.

"If we don't get through this door now, we don't at all," he told her and she nodded grimly.

"I'm open to suggestions," she grimaced as she dodged sparks from a blaster bolt that ricocheted off the wall next to her.

"Stand back," he told her. She looked at him, down the hall and then back to him with an incredulous expression that said 'Where do I stand back to?' With a battle cry he learned from Ashanti designed to intimidate the enemy, he repeatedly thrust the lightsaber into the door. The cry seemed to infuse more strength into him, lending the power needed for such a tiring feat. Clea defended his backside from blaster fire, but both were getting singed from misses too close for comfort.

The door finally slagged away enough for the Jedi to get through and they discovered to their relief there were only four guards in the room to contend with. These they dispatched quite hurriedly. "Free the hostages," Qui-Gon ordered as he turned back to the door. "I'm going to hold off the guards. Get back here as quick as you can!" Clea nodded and ran to the four tied up prisoners.

With quick efficiency, Clea pulled off the gags, the bindings and the blindfolds. "Thank the heavenly spheres!" muttered one of the male hostages. "You took your time!"

"You're welcome," replied Clea, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. He flushed at the rebuke. "I want you to all find cover and be ready to run when we say!" The group nodded as one and scuttled behind various bits of furniture in the lush quarters. Clea ran back to Qui-Gon's side, where they began dispatching the attackers one at a time.

There were too many to flip over to get behind for a pincer move so frontal assault was their best alternative. Qui-Gon, with his massive size and build, was an intimidation to the smaller built guards. The average height of Clea was more the their speed and so they converged on her, much to their mistake. She hacked and slashed, punting a few over to Qui-Gon like a dog being thrown a bone. Not that he minded. Her backside was in dire need of being watched and her taking most of the fighting was getting the excess tension out of her system. She'd been antsy the moment they set foot on the space station orbiting the planet Beloi. Nervous energy was always the first cause of trouble.

The few remaining guards took off in a panic, but Qui-Gon knew they would return with reinforcements. The Jedi had to hurry. Clea snorted derisively in their direction and grinned unrepentantly at her master for approval. His smile gave it. As one they turned to the freed hostages and shut off their sabers. "Please, ladies and gentleman, if you'll follow me, we'll get you to safety. With any luck, we can hijack a transport for us to escape." Qui-Gon paused as he went back into the hall, looked both directions for more guards and then headed to the right. The hostages followed ungracefully, considering their condition and the fancy clothes impeding their progress. Clea brought up the rear, hoping no more guards were going to come visit their little entourage.

None did.

The excitement, however, wasn't over. Master Ashanti Vende couldn't get the transport started.

* * *

Qui-Gon ushered the hostages inside the transport, helped Clea dispatched a couple more guards and followed his apprentice as she scampered inside the transport. Ashanti looked ready to pull her hair out and her long, hairless tail was so spiraled in aggravation it had to be painful.

"What seems to be the hold-up?" asked Qui-Gon, looking at his aggravated former master warily, wondering what she was doing there to begin with. It was unimportant now, though, so he waited on the question.

Ashanti glared at him. "You would ask. We can't get the damn thing started. It's got overrides I've never seen before!"

Clea cracked her knuckles and looked at Qui-Gon for approval. Qui-Gon gave an imperceptible nod and she brushed passed Ashanti. "If you'll excuse me, this is how I earn my knighthood."

Ashanti shot the girl a quizzical look and then glowered at Qui-Gon. "This is your padawan, I take it?"

Qui-Gon grinned at his former master. "You'll like her. She's just like you. Couldn't follow a rule if her life depended on it." Ashanti snorted and shouldered past him. In his mind, Qui-Gon heard her tell him, _First chance we get, we have to talk. This mission just got complicated._ Qui-Gon sighed. He hated it when things got complicated.

After five minutes, Clea cried out in triumph and the pilots who came with the transport gunned the motor. The transport took off, blowing exhaust into the faces of the late arriving guards, who's return fire bounced harmlessly off the shields. Ashanti and Qui-Gon, both caught unawares at the too sudden take off, were thrown back by the momentum. Ashanti, her species being natural tumblers and free-fallers, regained her footing immediately by attaching herself in her peculiar magnetic-type way to the wall and clung there until things settled down. Qui-Gon, on the other hand, found himself jouncing past his former master at a high rate of speed toward a wall that didn't look like a possible soft landing spot.

Ashanti, having gathered herself to some type of stability, watched as her former apprentice bounced his way to a thermisteel wall. Knowing the fragility of the human race and that he would not fare well under the hard contact, she shot her disproportionately long tail toward him and wrapped it around his waist. She almost came off the wall at the added weight, but with her natural clinging abilities and the claws at the tips of her fingers dug into the steel wall, she managed to stay put. Qui-Gon expelled his held breath when he jerked to a stop inches from the wall.

"That would have hurt," he commented, laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling.

"Hmm," Ashanti agreed. "Do you mind getting off my tail?"

Qui-Gon grimaced. "You mean I have to get up?" Ashanti shot him a look of warning and he quickly rolled of her tail. "You know, I'm not your padawan anymore. You can't boss me around."

Ashanti growled. "Watch me," she snapped and then flashed him one of her trouble smiles, the ones that had made him shudder when he was her padawan learner. The smile that said, 'Let's cause some mischief, shall we?'

"Is everyone alive back there?" called Clea from the front of the transport. Her white-haired head popped through the doorway. She saw Qui-Gon on the floor, looking dazed, and Ashanti clinging to the wall, looking mischievous. "What'd I miss?"

"I've never heard of a padawan becoming a knight by killing the master who was training her," chuckled Ashanti, and chuckled again when Clea's already pale white face drained of it's little remaining color.

The girl rushed to Qui-Gon's side in a flurry of movement. "Master! Are you okay? You didn't hit the wall, did you?" Qui-Gon looked over at Ashanti, who was delicately extracting claws from the wall, one at a time, acting unconcerned by the whole situation suddenly. Ashanti arched an eyebrow at his look. Clea looked back to Ashanti, obviously worried even more. "Master Ashanti, can he not speak?"

"How much is it worth if I tell you he's fine and not injured?" asked Ashanti, that smile back. Qui-Gon could smell the harassment that Ashanti was going to make coming a mile away.

Clea opened her mouth to respond but Qui-Gon beat her to the punch. "I'm fine, Clea. Just tell the pilot to give warning next time. We were caught unawares back here." Clea's head nodded so hard Qui-Gon wouldn't have been surprised that it didn't fall off of her shoulders. He turned to his former master and frowned at her. Ashanti continued smiling, unimpressed by his glower. "Master Ashanti," he told her, knowing that the formal tone would aggravate her, "please don't pick on my padawan. She's high-strung, just like you."

There were three things guaranteed to rub Ashanti Vende the wrong way: being thought of as predictable when she strove to be as unpredictable as possible; being called master (she abhorred the term, stating that she was no one's master and she didn't own slaves); and being called high-strung (no matter how true it was). Ashanti's eyes flashed retribution, which Qui-Gon had no doubt would come when he least expected. He made a mental note to avoid sleeping deeply tonight, so as not to give Ashanti the opportunity for her silently promised retribution.

"Shall we check on our uninvited guests?" asked Ashanti. "You know, Qui-Gon, it doesn't matter where you go, you always manage to pick up strays." She ribbed her former padawan good-naturedly. She had often been exasperated with Qui-Gon's soft spot for the underdogs, the strays, the pathetic and the helpless, at the same time being touched by his generous nature and giving disposition. The man may be one of the best knights in the Order, but he was mush otherwise.

"I'm not a stray!" cried Clea, outraged at being considered such.

Ashanti shot her quelling glance. "No, you're the hanger-on, whelp. I'm talking about the dignitaries you two dragged with you."

"Oh." Clea fell silent and followed the two knights to where the four dignitary hostages had been ushered by the co-pilot. "Master Qui-Gon?" Qui-Gon looked over his shoulder at his apprentice. "May I asked why Master Ashanti is here?"

Qui-Gon looked at Ashanti, who had sped up her pace when the question was asked. "An excellent question, my padawan. Ashanti, why _are_ you here?" Ashanti gave him a guileless look of innocence. He knew that 'I have a good idea what your talking about but I'm going to pretend I haven't a clue' look. "No, that doesn't answer my question."

Clea looked back and forth between the two. The bond between them was still strong, that much was obvious, and frankly, she was a little jealous. The bond between master and padawan had not fully formed yet between Qui-Gon and herself. 'It is not jealousy,' she remonstrated herself. 'It is envy, but Qui-Gon and I will have that one day soon. We work well together.'

_You act like I'm checking up on you, Qui-Gon!_ Ashanti was rebuking Qui-Gon in the meantime through their strong mental link.

_Aren't you?_ asked Qui-Gon, responding in kind.

Ashanti stopped at the door, pushed it open and gestured for Clea to enter first. "No, Qui-Gon Jinn, I'm not. Yoda told me to come here and here I am. I protested but he insisted. I also didn't like the fact he thought two knights were needed, so I gave in for the mission's concerns." To emphasize her words, she spoke them outloud.

Qui-Gon studied her for a heartbeat, thinking he could see through her if he needed to. He saw nothing deceitful in her words and nodded, following his apprentice through the door. Ashanti mentally sighed with relief. If Qui-Gon figured out she had lied to him, he'd kill her. She had never lied to him before and wasn't pleased about starting now, even for the sake of Yoda and the mission.

True, Yoda had sent her because the mission needed two knights, but he also sent her to check up on Qui-Gon and his very unusual apprentice, Clea Tari. Ashanti could see why. The girl was an oddity to say the least, but Qui-Gon was right. She did like her. She was flighty, quick-witted, skilled and eager to learn and please. No wonder she made Yoda nervous, though the little troll would die before admitting such a thing. To Ashanti these were always good traits in padawans. An easy trainee the first time for Qui-Gon, Ashanti noted, just as he had been for her. She smiled lopsidedly, causing Qui-Gon to raise his eyebrow again.

_Just like your father._ Qui-Gon's blue eyes glinted at her at the mention of his parents. Ashanti had brought the boy to the temple when his parents were killed of a deadly plague on their planet of Plumera. She had trained him, keeping her promise to her best friends that their son would be a Jedi knight and well-cared for. He would know he had been loved and not abandoned willingly.

Just like his father. The words rang in her mind as something caught Ashanti's eyes as she quickly surveyed the room's occupants for the first time.

Just like his father?

Ashanti blinked as she looked more closely at the dignitaries bustling around the room in outraged bluster. They demanded to speak with their governments immediately to protest their capture. They demanded _separate_ quarters. It seemed that they couldn't stand each other, which was logical to Ashanti because they were already getting on her nerves.

One of them, however, soon had Ashanti's undivided attention. He sat quietly in the corner chair, nodding here and there when one of the entourage made a halfway valid point. When he felt her eyes upon him, he looked up and gave her a courteous nod. She strode up to him, bowed low in the formal manner of Jedi to important dignitaries.

"May I ask your name?" she asked politely, but directly to him. The whole room went silent.

The man's eyes widened, a dark blue color unlike many blue eyes Ashanti had seen. Except three. "My name is Ishati Jinn." Ashanti's suspicions were confirmed. Those blue eyes looked exactly like the blue eyes widening in surprise at the name.

Qui-Gon had those blue eyes.

So had his father.

So did his first cousin.

She nodded. "I thought so. You look like your father in many ways. He is well, then? No ill health?"

The young man looked confused. "Why, yes. You know my father?"

Ashanti turned to Qui-Gon. "Qui-Gon Jinn, meet your cousin, Ishati Jinn, ambassador for Plumera." She sighed. "I hate it when Yoda does this to me."

The two cousins eyed each other in surprised confusion. Both were of similar build, though Qui-Gon was in better shape and more filled out because of the nature of his physical job. Ishati was fit more in the aristocratic-sporting way: boxing, hunting, sword-fighting, and other "gentlemanly" occupations. Qui-Gon had a rough look about him, having lived a hard life, while Ishati was refined, sophisticated and suave.

"Master Qui-Gon," Ishati bowed to his cousin, "it is a pleasure to meet the heir to the noble Dome of Jinn at last. We have been forbidden to make contact with you because of the nature of your profession." The tone was completely neutral, but the three Jedi bristled at the subtle intonement attached to "profession", as if it were beneath any one of any consequence.

"Thank you, cousin. Interesting to meet family, but I'm afraid we're not out of trouble yet." Qui-Gon shot Ashanti a look. _We will definitely have a talk later._ Ashanti looked ready to say something but seemed to change her mind. Qui-Gon instead turned to his apprentice. "This is Clea Tari, my apprentice." Ishati bowed to her formally, and the padawan responded in kind, still bristling from the veiled insult delivered moments ago.

Ashanti was really beginning to like the girl. "Ladies and gentleman," she said, interrupting the awkward family reunion, "we will contact your home planets as soon as we are out of danger. We're not out of the woods yet. We will start setting you up in individual quarters in a moment. Until then," she quirked an eyebrow at the still outraged dignitaries, "sit down, buckle up and shut up. Thank you."

Clea leaned toward her master to mutter, "I'm more diplomatic than that."

"Barely," Qui-Gon whispered back, choking on the urge to laugh at the stunned looks from the dignitaries. He walked over to Ashanti, whose tail was twitching ever so slightly in irritation. "Smooth as you ever were," he murmured over her head. At four foot, one inch, Ashanti was an elf compared to Qui-Gon's six foot, four inch frame. Her tail, even longer than she was, wrapped around his waist and squeezed affectionately, the lightly poisoned barbs avoiding contact with any exposed skin.

Ashanti's rusty dark auburn hair caressed lightly under Qui-Gon's chin, tickling him. He brushed the curly fuzz away from his face in an absent gesture. He glanced down and noted that Ashanti was still staring at Ishati Jinn, who looked uncomfortable under the watchful gaze.

"He's is your father's brother's son," she said quietly.

"I gathered that, him being my cousin and we share the same last name," he told her with a small grin.

"Your mother shared your father's last name before their union." Qui-Gon's grin slipped away. "She had been born of a very distant branch of the Jinn family, and your parents marriage had caused a stir amongst the family. They disapproved of the match, having one already picked out for your father. Like you, he chose his own path and damned the consequences."

"What does this have to do with-?" Qui-Gon began, but Ashanti cut him off.

"Ishati's father, Lin-Seng Jinn, was the second son and your father's heir. When you were born, he became your heir until you had a son yourself. As a Jedi, this will be very unlikely to happen, as Jedi don't normally have families. You cannot name another not of your bloodline to be your heir either." Ashanti turned to Qui-Gon, her eyes flashing a warning. "Your family is greatly powerful, Qui-Gon, and you alone hold that power, despite your absence from Plumera. Your uncle can make no move politically unless you approve. The Council refuses your family to contact you about such matters, as is the way of the Code, and therefore that leaves the family in a quandary."

Qui-Gon looked pensive. _Let us speak of this later. Things need to be done._ He spoke through the bond.

_Listen to nothing he says until we speak further, Qui-Gon._ Ashanti's eyes continued to flash warning as she responded in kind. _They will try to use you in the same way they tried to use your father._

Qui-Gon glanced at Clea, who was watching the two of them with great envy. He knew why. Their padawan/master link was not strong, despite their great fondness for each other. Clea longed for that link as much as Qui-Gon did. Clea was an excellent padawan, despite her quirks of personality. Like Ashanti, he was old-fashioned while Clea was as technologically advanced as you could get without being a droid. She could hack into any computer system set before her and could create the oddest technological devices ever seen. With mechanics, she was a whiz, while Qui-Gon was grateful a speeder started for him. He had confidence the bond would come to them in the strength he shared it with Ashanti, but he hoped it wouldn't wait until the day before her final trials occurred.

The three Jedi left the room and headed back to the small bridge area. A few shots bounced off the ship suddenly, alerting them to the fact that their pursuers had finally gotten on the ball and taken after them. They rushed in to the bridge to find the skimpy crew in an uproar.

"What now?" demanded Ashanti in aggravation. The whole mission was one irritant after another and Ashanti hated those type of missions.

"Our weapons array is down and the droids are blocked. They can't get out for repairs!" The pilot punched a bunch of buttons in rapid succession, executing some impressive maneuvers to dodge the bolts of lasers that zipped past them in the front port screen. Ashanti's tail whipped out to catch Clea as the girl lost her balance momentarily. It was an automatic gesture, done absently at the girl's surprised gasp.

"What type of fighters are following us?" Qui-Gon leaned over the co-pilot's shoulder to get a look at the rear viewscreen. "Damn. Droid fighters."

Ashanti grimaced. "I hate those things. They're worse than Maagolon mosquito flies." She looked at the sparse crew and her two Jedi companions. "You aren't going to like this, Qui-Gon, but I'm the only one who can do this. I'll unblock the route the droids need to get out there. Keep dodging, but don't do anything fancy. I can only withstand so many G-forces."

Qui-Gon looked at her in absolute horror. He knew exactly what she was going to do. "No!"

"It is the only way," she insisted and strode back out the door.

He followed her after motioning for Clea to stay put. "I won't allow this!" he informed her, hurrying to catch up to the quick-footed female in front of him.

"Who said you had a choice?" she snapped back. "We don't have time to argue. Those dignitaries in there were being held hostage for a reason and you have to get them to that peace conference. I'm your back-up and back-up is getting ready to do her job."

"The back-up will do what I tell her if you are under my protection!" he stated firmly. "There has to be another way."

Ashanti stopped and rounded on him in a perfect vision of mounting frustration. "Don't defy me, Qui-Gon," she hissed. "You won't win. Your safety is my responsibility, I don't care the situation. You die in your bed or you don't die at all. Got it?" She poked him with her three knot-spiked tail for emphasis.

"You've fulfilled your promise to my parents, Ashanti," Qui-Gon ground out as the maddening woman turned away and began walking toward the droid compartment. "You promised to make me a Jedi and I am. A good one, if anyone's opinions count for anything. Be satisfied with that!"

He followed her into the droid's personal storage room and watched as she began pulling on a space safety suit. She grimaced as she tucked her tail into the uniform, wrapping it tightly around her waist. It would impeded her balance greatly not having it free, he knew.

_This is madness_, he informed her mentally.

She looked at him, her green eyes glinting at him with their usual hint of mischief. _I've done it before. I can do it again._ She turned to the console containing the controls to the environment. She pulled on the mask, making an odd breathing sound as she adjusted the oxygen controls on the suit's wrist band. Qui-Gon turned, knowing he couldn't talk her out of this folly and shut the door behind him. He peered at her through the viewport in the door, his face still a mask of disapproval. The astrodroids, thankfully still attached to their ports, beeped and blooped their worry as the small door to space open enough to let Ashanti through. The wind tugged at the tiny alien woman, but whatever mysterious ability she had to cling to places without her claws kept her safe as she walked to the opening. As she went through Qui-Gon heard her tell him jauntily. _Tell Yoda that if something happens to me, it's all his fault and he has to tell you the big, bad secret._

Qui-Gon blinked once and she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Ashanti was praying to whatever deities would listen the whole time she hung out in the nothingness called space. The horrid cold seeped through the protective suit, proving that the suit was a temporary guard against the harshness. Ashanti took a deep breath, double checking her oxygen controls on the wrist band. Normal. Good. An accident would be most unfortunate. She grimaced. Yoda was going to pay for this first chance she got, the little pointy-eared know-it-all. And Ki-Adi-Mundi as well, just on general principles.  
She poked around the shaft where the droids were to emerge from the interior to the exterior of the ship. She saw no blockage at first, but on closer inspection, she saw it wasn't blockage. The hole was melted to slag from a direct hit. A well-placed, highly improbable direct hit. The thing had been sabotaged before they even left the space station.

She cursed.

They were in trouble.

No ship escaped droid fighters without weapons. That made them sitting ducks for the droids to pick off at their convenience. The transport barely made light speed, so escaping was almost an impossibility in that respect. They had to have weapons in order to have any chance in hell.

She took a deep breath, rechecked her oxygen level and made her decision. She prayed that her commlink with the bridge worked and that Clea was as clever as she seemed. As she inched her way across the ship, grimacing as various blasts missed around her from the droid fighters, she managed to tap the commlink button. "Bridge, this is Ashanti."

The commlink was the wrong one, as it broadcast her voice all over the ship, getting everyone's attention. The dignitaries stopped their complaining at the Jedi's voice and, still outside the airlock, Qui-Gon's head whipped toward the speaker unit.

"Bridge here, what's going on? Did you get the droids moving?" The pilot sounded optimistically hopeful.

"No. We're doing this the hard way. Put Clea on." Ashanti's eyes widened and she ducked a laser blast that missed her by inches. She hastily beat out the small fire it created. One hazard prevented, she reassured herself, fighting down the panic rising within her. What the hell was she doing out here? Knowing there was no other way, Ashanti continued her way to the front of the ship.

"Clea here. Where are you?" Ashanti had crawled up to the bridge's left-hand viewport and peered through. She could see Clea staring puzzledly at the speaker. Qui-Gon was nowhere in sight, no doubt waiting impatiently with the droids for her return. He might be waiting a long time, if she wasn't careful.

"Look to your left and I'll give a little wave." Clea's white, pupilless eyes turned in horror to the viewport and Ashanti gave a little wave as she said she would, and then continued her path to the weapons array poking out a couple of meters from her current location. "I'm going to have to fix these blasted thing manually, and you, my former apprentice's clever padawan, can hopefully tell me how. The droids can't get out because their exit is slag material." She heard the pilot mutter a curse in great length. "You were more polite about the situation than I was. Whoops!" She dodged another blaster shot.

Clea plastered herself against the viewport for a better look at Ashanti. "Master Qui-Gon is going to freak!" Clea exclaimed rather unnecessarily.

Qui-Gon at the moment was having heart failure as he raced back to the bridge. _Are you insane?_ he shouted in his mind.

_There's no need to shout, you know,_ Ashanti informed him in a prim manner. _I can hear you just fine._ He burst into the bridge, practically running his padawan over in the process. _Tell your padawan to stop gaping and give me instructions on how to fix the damn thing._

"Talk to her," he ordered a gaping Clea. When she looked about to protest, he interrupted her. "If she's going to risk her life doing this insane stunt then we're going to do our best to make she gets back alive so I can strangle her." He turned to the pilot, who looked shell-shocked at the events unfolding. "Do evasive maneuvers, mild ones, to avoid letting her get hit. Please tell me that she has a toolkit attached to that space suit?"

"I already checked, dummy," came Ashanti's dry voice. "I'm not completely impulsive. I thought this through."

Qui-Gon's lips thinned. "Why don't I believe that it wasn't for more than two seconds?" he snapped back in response.

Clea, back to business began firing questions at Ashanti. "What does the damage look like? Any missing parts? If so, what? If not, any meltdown or freezing? How about..."

"Can I get there first?" growled Ashanti. "Whoa! Watch the space debris! It may not be significant in there, but it is out here!" Qui-Gon's expression turned even more thunderous as the pilot apologized and the co-pilot began keeping a close eye on the space debris. Clea could feel the frustrated anger radiating through the Force. Qui-Gon, in her few years in his care, had never been this angry. It unnerved her but she focused on the task at hand.

"This is impossible!" the co-pilot exclaimed frantically. "We can't keep an eye out for everything!"

"You better or we're all dead." Ashanti informed him calmly. "Okay, no meltdown, no missing parts, as if I'd know that anyway. Some ice, but I can knock it off without much problem."

"The ice indicates the heating core for the laser unit isn't functioning. Do you have a thrumming driver?" asked Clea, closing her eyes, hoping she could remember what the laser looked like on this model of ship.

"Is this it?" asked Ashanti, holding a thrumming driver in front of the forward viewscreen.

"Yes!" snapped Qui-Gon.

_Testy, there, Qui-Gon?_ quipped Ashanti as the hand disappeared. "What do I do now?" she asked outloud.

"Unscrew the main cover and look for three wires. They may be either green or blue in color." Clea's eyes were scrunched tight in concentration.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and pushed the Force out from himself and to his former master. He could tell Ashanti could feel the boost. _Thanks, Padawan,_ she told him. _I need that._ Their link mingled and tightened as it had many years before when he followed her dutifully through the teachings of becoming a Jedi knight.

Ashanti felt the rush of the Force flow through her, grateful for it's energy boost and power. Holding on was getting harder and harder with each dodge the pilot made oh so carefully from the blasts of the droid fighters. She got the cover off and stared at the wires.

Not a damn one of them was blue or green.

"They're not blue or green!" she shouted.

Clea frowned. "What colors are there to pick from?"

"White, white and white!" ground out Ashanti, her panic rising again. She tamped it down ruthlessly. 'I'll hyperventilate later,' she promised herself.

Clea's eyes swung to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon controlled his emotions for Ashanti's sake. Clea obviously had no idea what to do next. He looked at the pilot and co-pilot, hoping they could help. "We're temporary pilots for this ship. We took it only for this mission." The pilot looked apologetic and was obviously going to be no help.

"Inspiring!" quipped Ashanti. Everyone could hear the undercurrent of strain beneath the false cheerfulness. "What am I supposed to be doing once I find the mythical pretty wires?"

Clea took a deep breath. "Any loose connections?"

As Ashanti wiggled each wire, she was struck from behind and lost her natural hold on the ship. Her hand whipped out and grabbed the edge of the laser opening. "Slow down! I'm losing my grip!" she shouted, frightened. She couldn't fail. The mission depended upon this. Hell, their survival depended upon this.

"I can't," whimpered the pilot, trying to dodge laser bolts at the moment.

"Do it or I'm gone!" shouted Ashanti again, her grip slipping ever so slightly. Her other hand had the driver in it and she shoved it in the laser hatch and grabbed the edge with her other hand. "Prophecies, I wish my tail was not around my waist," she muttered.

Qui-Gon caught the muttered words and his scowl increased. _Ashanti, you better get back here so I can tell you I told you so!_ he informed her, hoping the banter would help her confidence.

_Qui-Gon, I love you like a son, but WILL YOU SHUT UP!_ snapped Ashanti in his mind. He jerked his head back in surprise at the force of the words. After some maneuvering, praying and juggling the Force into aiding her, Ashanti got reattached to the ship. The Force flowed through her, imbibing her with a better grip on the steel outer layer.

"Okay, I'm back," she breathed. "The wires look secure. Now what?"

Clea looked paler than normal again. "Is there a small fluid tank? It should contain the cooling fluid that the laser port uses against overheating."

"Yes, I see it. It has a nice hole in it." Ashanti sighed. "Let me guess, it needs that coolant, doesn't it." It wasn't a question but a resigned statement of fact.

"Yes, but we can by-pass that considering how frozen the systems are right now." Clea took a deep breath. "Look for a welding torch in your toolkit." Ashanti's hand emerged into view again with torch in hand as if asking if this is what she wanted. Qui-Gon forgot that Ashanti was even more worthless in her knowledge of tools than he was. At least he knew what a damned welding torch looked like. "Yes, that's it," assured Clea. "Now, try to unfreeze the laser muzzle itself. Don't overheat it. Put the welding torch on low power and keep it back from the muzzle by about three inches. When the metal turns an deep orange color stop immediately. The cold of space will cool it off soon enough. Let us know when you have that done."

Silence descended the cabin as Ashanti worked. Qui-Gon continued his Force link with Ashanti, hoping it would be enough, praying that it would be. He'd rather Ashanti told him the "big, bad secret" instead of Master Yoda. The seconds crawled by, making everyone tense. The pilot managed to avoid further droid hits, but time was running out and they all knew it. The droid fighters would get them eventually if they didn't regain the ability to fight back.

"Ok, it's orange."

Pause.

"Icky brown."

Pause.

"Charcoal black. Done."

Qui-Gon let go of the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Ashanti was going to be the death of him.

"Now what?"

Clea grinned in momentarily relief. "Move out the way and we'll see if they'll fire."

"Right. Moving."

Pause.

"Moved! Fire when ready!" The laser cannons blasted one droid fighter in one shot. The second blast clipped a droid fighter wing, sending it careening into another, causing them both to explode at the impact. "Woo-hoo! Good shooting! Toast them babies!" shouted Ashanti exuberantly.

"Stop shooting!" Clea ordered. "Master Ashanti, go back and check to make sure that the muzzles are still hot. If so, if we keeping shooting they'll be heated against space's cold."

Pause.

Pause.

"Yes, hot as hell in the summertime."

"Then get back in here," growled Qui-Gon.

_Touchy._

_Did Master Yoda ever do this to you?_ he asked as he watched her crawl past the left viewport.

_No, I did this to Yoda. So at least you're not alone in the heart attack league._

_Not amusing, Ashanti Vende, and you know it._ he told her in exasperation. He nodded to Clea, his eyes telling her stay put. She nodded. She was needed more here than in the droid room where Qui-Gon would no doubt be killing his former master.

Ashanti looked like she could handle herself.

Qui-Gon rushed back down the corridor to the droid compartment, but stopped at the open door of the room the dignitaries were occupying. They were quiet, composed and probably in shock. "Is everyone alright?" Qui-Gon asked, noting their lack of squabbling.

"Is she insane?" asked Ishati in a near whisper.

Qui-Gon grimaced. "That has been under debate for many years amongst the Jedi. General consensus is yes. Sometimes I wonder if it's insanity or lack of self-preservation. Either way, if we can get past the droid fighters, we'll be in the clear to head for the nearest Republic-friendly spaceport."

"Tell Master Ashanti that her heroism will not go unrewarded," a female ambassador informed Qui-Gon with great ceremony.

"Stop this war and that will be plenty of reward for her heroism," Qui-Gon responded and then continued toward his destination.

Ashanti was almost through the airlock door when he got there. He waited until the door was completely closed and the compartment depressurized before he barreled through the entrance of the room. Ashanti was removing the mask, grimacing at the difference in the clean oxygen from the tank and the filtered oxygen of the ship. Neither said a word as she removed the suit and placed it back it's closet. Her tail carefully unwound, as if stretching, which was the case, considering it's scrunched environment. For a limb that moved freely as if a separate entity, being confined like that had to have been highly uncomfortable.

Ashanti finally faced her former apprentice, ready for the anger to be unleashed at the stupid stunt she had just pulled. And it was stupid, she'd be the first to admit that, but it had been necessary and thankfully successful.

"You won't be so lucky all the time," Qui-Gon told her solemnly.

She sighed. "I know, but those are the risks you have to take." He hugged her tightly, releasing the tension and worry he'd had built up. "Besides, do you think Master Yoda would let me go like that? He still has another hundred years of pestering me to enjoy."

He laughed, relieved that at least her sense of humor was still intact. "Thank you for including me in that list of people who care for your welfare."

"I already know you can't live without me," Ashanti told him smugly, heading for the door.

"Oh," countered Qui-Gon, "and why would you think that?" He knew what was coming. It was an old argument between them. Her response would be...

Ashanti turned the tables on him. "Because you are the better half of me." She left him standing there.

That wasn't the answer. The answer was supposed to be 'You couldn't live without my sage wisdom and superior skills.'

* * *

By the time the two Jedi reached the bridge the droid fighters had been destroyed or driven off. The pilots had already laid in the course to the nearest Republic friendly spaceport. Clea rushed to Ashanti with a beaming smile of relief and then smacked her arm. "You almost gave my master heart failure and then where would I have been?" she reprimanded mock-sternly.

Ashanti patted her on the head parentally. "Don't worry, I would have taken you on." Clea's eyes widened in mock horror.

"It's nice to know I'm appreciated," Qui-Gon commented to no one in particular. "Shall we get the ambassadors to their separate chambers before they kill each other?"

"Clea, can you handle that?" asked Ashanti. "Qui-Gon and I need to have a talk. He'll brief you on the mission when you get done." Clea nodded and vanished out the door. Ashanti motioned to Qui-Gon. "There's a briefing room down the hall."

"Let us know if there's any further trouble," Qui-Gon told the pilot. Now that things were on an even keel, the pilot had no doubts he could handle anything that came along.

Qui-Gon entered the small privacy chamber after Ashanti and they both got comfortable at the briefing table. "What do you want to know first, family or mission?"

"They are tied together, aren't they?" Qui-Gon arched a brow at Ashanti, who flushed guiltily. "You lied to me, didn't you? You _are_ here to check up on me."

Ashanti looked down, unable to face the censure in his blue eyes. "Yes, but in my defense I will say it was Yoda's idea, though I agreed to it wholeheartedly."

Qui-Gon interrupted. "Am I trusted so little by the Council that I need a babysitter?"

Ashanti looked up, disapproval evident on her sharp features. "Don't dramatize this more than it already is. Neither the Council nor the Supreme Chancellor had anything to do with this. This was Yoda, and Yoda alone, drafting me."

Qui-Gon just looked at her. After a moment of the battle of two stubborn wills, Ashanti's eyes dropped away again. Qui-Gon sighed and relaxed. "Okay, start from the beginning."

"I was trying to," muttered the small woman, her tail wagging in a huge arc.

"Ashanti." The name was drug out in warning. Qui-Gon's patience was coming to an end.

"When Yoda sent you on this mission, he had no doubt that you could handle it without any problem. When the ambassadors were kidnapped, he still had faith in you and Clea. However, when we learned that your cousin was one of the ambassadors, things got sticky." Ashanti looked at a spot directly over his left shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Why? What harm could he do to me?" Qui-Gon was puzzled.

"Not so much to you as to these proceedings, your family and, yes, I suppose your future. He's a dangerous man, Qui-Gon, and very resentful of your lack of involvement in the family's welfare." Ashanti finally looked at him, her teal eyes almost turquoise with guilt. "I knew you would have to do this, but I hoped that with the circumstances surrounding you, Plumeran traditions would allow for some bending of the rules. There has never been a Jedi from a Dome family before."

"Not everyone bends rules as easily as you do, Ashanti," snapped Qui-Gon. "I had a responsibility to uphold and you didn't tell me. That's not acceptable, no matter how good your intentions."

"By the Code's very structure, we are not allowed to interfere in political goings-on of a planet, unless we have no choice, been asked to or just cause," sighed Ashanti, knowing this was going to be difficult. "A knight must worry about the day to day events, the future of the Order, and the big picture of the future as guided by the Force. The trivial day to day things are to be less of a concern than they are to others. Even with our own families, we are to take a hands off approach. You know this."

"But it concerns the ruling of a world important to the Republic. Surely, I can name an heir, give him or her the power of proxy and be done with it! How interfering could that be?" Qui-Gon insisted.

Ashanti gave him a helpless look. "I don't know. I agree with you but I don't know. I didn't write the Code, sweetie, I just follow it." The endearment was natural, as her endearments to him always were, indicating her regard for him as more than a former apprentice but the godchild that he was to her.

"When it suits you," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"I have never broken the Code, Qui-Gon. Never. I have bent the ethical rules that we have had pounded into us, and yes, I may have scraped the line many a time, but I have never broken the Code outright. Master Yoda knows this and so does the Council." Ashanti's face held a stern mask of rebuke and it was Qui-Gon's turn to look away.

"I'm sorry, Master," he said, falling into the habit of padawan to master. He grimaced, as did she. Even with their 9 years apart since Qui-Gon's passing of the trials, some things were hard to break. He still called her master in times of worry and apology, despite her desire not to be called 'master'.

"Apology accepted, now let me finish my story." Her tail looped up to brush a lock of hair from his eyes. "Your cousin, naturally, covets your heirdom. His father is old now, and will no doubt die soon from age. That leaves you and him as the only males within the family. If your cousin does not produce an heir, then all will be lost when you and he die."

"Then I will name him my heir on the stipulation that he names another cousin or nephew as his heir," Qui-Gon stated firmly.

"There are none." Qui-Gon looked at her in surprise. "That's what makes him so dangerous. Rumors have been filtering through the other Dome families on Plumera that if Ishati can convince you to make him your heir, or even make him Dome of Jinn instead of you, his political clout now combined with that power will then make him unbeatable in the Primary elections."

"Giving him control of a powerful planet not only in this system but in this quadrant as well," finished Qui-Gon. "I see. But surely Yoda knew who the ambassadors were before he sent me on this mission?"

Ashanti sighed. "Here's where it got complicated. Ishati wasn't supposed to be the ambassador sent. How he got here to begin with I still don't know. When Yoda was relayed the information on the ambassadors, he about twitched his ears off in aggravation. He pulled me out of touchy negotiations and sent me here to make sure you weren't getting into trouble, courtesy of family. Ki-Adi-Mundi was sent in my stead to the negotiations with his own apprentice."

Qui-Gon nodded once, pondering the information placed before him. He knew Ashanti wouldn't lie to him, but Yoda was often up to something in his roundabout way. He always spoke in riddles and poked a person's consciousness around in order to teach a lesson or get a point across. Was Ashanti part of Yoda's strategy unwittingly or was this the honest truth?

"No game. No lie. No powerplay or lesson. Straight truth." Ashanti answered his doubting questions and Qui-Gon knew she had picked up on them through their link. He cut it off ruthlessly and she drew back with a hurt expression.

"How old and important is my family to Plumera?" Qui-Gon asked, still thinking.

For a moment he didn't think Ashanti was going to answer, but she finally murmured, "Five hundred generations and they are the oldest Dome family on Plumera." Qui-Gon registered the information with some surprise and pride. His family was indeed distinguished!

"Importance?" Qui-Gon pressed.

"More than Yoda has on the Council." That was considerable, Qui-Gon knew, with Yoda's extreme age, experience, and wisdom to contribute. "And their wealth is enough to make the richest Hutt suicidal with grief."

Qui-Gon gave her another startled look. He had known of the fortune he inherited upon his father's death. It was quite large and he only used it when he had to have immediate resources in severe circumstances, like buying supplies, replacement parts for transports or clothing for the needy when he saw they had no other options.

"That raises the stakes considerably, doesn't it?"

Ashanti nodded grimly. "The fortune currently at your disposal is the personal fortune your father made without the help of the Jinn Dome. That is a drop in the Azure Sea of Gems in comparison." The Azure Sea of Gems was an entire planet of water, so Qui-Gon was staggered by the comparison. "I too inherited a small portion of that fortune, but I have used none of it. Upon my death, it will revert to the Council for any wards they are left with that cannot be trained as knights. Otherwise, it sits there for those just-in-case emergencies."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily. The stakes were indeed high, higher than he really wanted to deal with. He had no idea how to proceed. "Do you have council to give me?" he asked hopefully.

Ashanti looked him dead in the eye when she answered, "You alone have the power to disband the family and divide the family fortune among them evenly. This would resolve the whole problem, but it would a tragedy of tradition for the planet itself. Your people value tradition greatly, like the Jedi, and such a move would throw them off-balance. I have no doubt they would recover however."

Qui-Gon didn't respond. He sat quietly, digesting the information and rolling his options through his mind in his careful way. Finally, just before Ashanti couldn't stand anymore silence, he spoke. "What has this do with the mission that Clea and I were sent on?"

"We believe Ishati manipulated his way into your path and means to use this opportunity to his advantage. Yoda wants you off the mission and me in your place. I can deal with him with a more protected mind than you can." Qui-Gon frowned. "You are an open book to be written to Ishati's advantage. I can warn you all I want but that doesn't necessarily mean you'll take full heed. You are like me," Ashanti told him with a smile, "You follow your own path and damn the consequences."

"No," Qui-Gon corrected her coldly, echoing her words from earlier, "I am like my father." He stood up and left the room without looking at her or pausing at her calls for his attention.

"Honor be damned!" spat Ashanti, her tail knocking over the chair he had been sitting in. "If he won't listen, I'll take matters into my own claws!"


	3. Chapter 3

"He's going to be stubborn, Master Yoda," Ashanti informed the green, wizened Jedi master through the holographic communications.

Yoda grunted but didn't seem to be all that surprised. "Like you he is," Yoda informed her with a slight accusing tone.

"I got it from you!" Ashanti shifted the blame on her own former master. The two looked at each other for a moment and she sighed. "The only way I'm going to get him off this mission is to knock him and his padawan out, load them in another transport and send them straight to you gagged and bound."

Yoda's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Tempting but not necessary that is, Ashanti." Yoda put his chubby index finger to his lips in a gesture of thought. "Continue then with him at your side. Plumera confused at Ishati's presence. Ambassador they send is now missing. Keep watch on all parties involved you will."

Ashanti rolled her eyes. "I can't baby-sit them, Master Yoda! That's ridiculous! Qui-Gon is his own man now and must make his own way."

"Follow the orders of the Council he will or Jedi he will no longer be!" snapped Yoda, ears twitching rapidly with his aggravation.

Ashanti bowed to him mockingly, knowing she pushing the line with it. "Yes, my master," she intoned.

Yoda took it for the insult it was. "Don't care if approve or disapprove you do, Ashanti. Follow orders you will or same goes for you." _Understand?_ The understand was silently spoken. Though her bond with own former master was weakened, it was still there and she knew of his irritation at her disrespect. "Transport ambassadors safely and resolve with negotiation their disputes. Keep eye on Ishati you will." The monitor blinked out, ending the transmission.

Yoda was peeved at her and she had no doubt that little act of disrespect would go on her record. One more to add to her list of faults, she supposed, but Yoda had gotten her point and they both knew it.

Now to track down Qui-Gon and beat his head against a wall until he followed her train of thought.

She found him with Clea in the now empty lounge the ambassadors had been in. Clea had gotten them comfortable and (more importantly) separated . All that was left was the girl's mission briefing on the changes being made. Clea turned to Ashanti when the rusty skinned alien entered the room, but Qui-Gon pointedly ignored her entrance.

Displeased with her own tantrum with Yoda, Ashanti snapped at him, "Stop acting like a child!" He turned to her in astonishment and Clea backed up a pace. She had caught on to the tension between the two knights. "I have new orders from Yoda. I can't say I'm thrilled with them, but they should make you happy. You stay, but you follow my orders. Got it?" Using her tail for leverage she pulled herself up until she was nose to nose with Qui-Gon.

He merely looked at her, his blue eyes cold and distant. She hated it when he did that.

"Ishati tells me the Dome of Jinn has fallen."

Ashanti blinked at the change of subject. "He lies."

"He has the documentation to prove it. That is why he is an ambassador." Qui-Gon didn't look like he was going to budge on this.

Ashanti growled something not very polite about bureaucrats and lowered herself back to the floor. She glanced at Clea, noting the girl's censure. 'When did I become the bad guy here?' she thought to herself. "Where did you get this trivial piece of tripe?" she asked casually.

"Ishati," Clea informed her. "He told me when I took him to his quarters."

"He lies. Did he tell just you or did Qui-Gon get involved as I'm sure he did?" Ashanti blatantly ignored Qui-Gon's presence.

"I will speak to him after I get done raking you over the coals." Qui-Gon's great irritation washed over them all in waves. None of the trio was thrilled with the sensation.

"Peace over anger," warned Ashanti and Qui-Gon's struggled to control the white hot fury building inside him. It frightened him, this extreme anger. He abhorred being used and controlled outside his own influence. He hated feeling he had no direction or control. "If you let him get to you, then he will have won the battle over you he desperately needs."

Qui-Gon grunted noncommittally. "What news from Yoda then?"

"The three of us continue the mission and keep an eye on Ishati. The negotiations must proceed and this conflict be resolved before it escalates into a war. Both are top priority." She hesitated and then plunged on. "The Plumerian government has reported their ambassador as missing and are confused at Ishati's presence, which confirms that he's up to something." She felt Qui-Gon pause at this bit of news, as she hoped he would. "He also warns that if any of us defy the Council's restrictions in this matter, we'll be looking for a new occupation and will be thankful for that fortune your father left us."

Qui-Gon's eyes met hers in apprehension. It was indeed more serious than he what he believed if Yoda made those threats. There had only been one instance in which a knight was dismissed from the Order that either of them knew, and the circumstances had indeed been very serious.

"Very well, let's see what my cousin is up to, shall we?" He began striding toward the door. He paused when he noticed that Ashanti was not following and was actually holding Clea back. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, unease settling in his stomach.

Ashanti shook her head. "This is your confrontation. You handle Ishati. Clea and I will handle the negotiations."

Clea sidestepped Ashanti's tail blocking her way. "I am Qui-Gon's apprentice, not yours, Master Ashanti. I follow his guidance."

Qui-Gon hesitated then nodded. "I agree. Come, Padawan, together we'll face whatever comes our way." Before he walked out the door, he caught Ashanti's beaming smile. He felt better, knowing that Ashanti approved.

The door shut behind the two of them, and Ashanti sighed with relief. Stubborn as he was, Qui-Gon was a good man and an excellent Jedi. She had no doubts he would follow the Force and his conscience faithfully. That he would take care of whatever problem Ishati would become, Ashanti had even less of a doubt now. The only thing that worried her now was the negotiations concerning the ambassadors just several doors down. Their dispute was going to be hard to muddle through to get to the main problem of who should control tolls on the trade routes to the Republic.

She had an idea on how to get them to cooperate though. It was going to get her in a lot of trouble.

She grinned. Like this was anything new.

* * *

The pilot reported several more days travel before they arrived at the spaceport the Supreme Chancellor sent the ambassadors to for negotiation purposes. Ashanti started negotiations early by interviewing each of the five ambassadors to understand their goals in the proceedings. Once she had that determined, she knew it was going to be smooth sailing.

The ambassadors goals were simple. Each planet wanted to control their own personal trade route to the main Republic trade route some several parsecs away from their portion of the system. The Trade Federation had suggested smaller routes to a main route that led to the Republic's main route, but after squabbles of who would operate the tolls the Federation proposed, the Trade Federation threw up their hands in disgust, whined at the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate, who ordered the Jedi to intercede. No one was happy about this maneuver, including the Jedi.

As a rule, the Jedi were not negotiators for anything but peace. While they were warriors of high standing, their reputation for passivity caused some consternation amongst the places they traveled. The Jedi defended themselves only when provoked. An army they were not and refused to be. While a single Jedi could be manipulated, one Jedi could only do so much for whomever manipulated said Jedi.

Jedi were not, for that reason, very popular. Most knights tended to be wary and with their bond with the living Force, Jedi were hard to dupe to begin with. It had been known to happen but the occasions were rare indeed.

Any hope the ambassadors harbored in having an upper hand fell when Ashanti was placed in charge of the negotiations. She was no dummy and the dignitaries knew it. That she interviewed them one at a time, was well-informed of the proposals by the Trade Federation and even seemed to know something about each ambassadors' background was disconcerting to them. To Ashanti it was a week without sleep, trying to translate bio files and muck her way through financial babble.

Qui-Gon watched his master trudge through the proceedings, knowing she was bored out of her mind and irritated beyond belief. It was a small measure of comfort as he dealt with his obviously angry cousin day after day. Clea informed her master after day three in Ishati's presence that she was enclosing herself in her quarters with technical journals and didn't want to be disturbed unless space pirates were attacking. Qui-Gon had given his permission with a heavy sigh, wishing he could join her.

He saw Ashanti's point: Ishati was a raging individual of anger, jealousy, a smidge of hatred, a load of envy, and a cubic ton of unpredictability. Qui-Gon learned that turning his back on his cousin would not be the wisest thing he could do.

The fifth evening on board, the two cousins ate dinner privately in Ishati's quarters. The silence had been strained and there was a new air to his cousin's emotional state, making Qui-Gon wary of the other man.

Ishati dabbed at his mouth primly and leaned back for the servant droid to remove the soup bowl. He leaned forward again and gave Qui-Gon an engaging smile. "Tell me, cousin Qui-Gon, now that you know about the political power our family has, are you going to do anything with it?"

Qui-Gon set the spoon down and wiped his own mouth, though not as primly as Ishati did. He lift his glass of blue juice and sipped it while he formulated an answer. There was a game in this question, Qui-Gon knew, he just had to figure out what it was before answering.

"The Code forbids it." He spoke the words softly with as much unconcern as he could muster. He was rewarded with Ishati's suddenly stiff posture and the angry flash of blue eyes.

"The Code," Ishati sneered, "means more to you than the welfare of a hundred or so people under your care by familial law?" Ishati slammed his fist down on the table. Qui-Gon watched him calmly, yet closely.

Ishati stood up and began to pace in agitation. "Look at you, Qui-Gon!" Ishati gestured to Qui-Gon's humble attire: the traditional Jedi gi tunic, heavy duty belt with compartments and pouches attached within easy reach around his waist, the sturdy, yet worn brown pants and the scuffed boots that had seen hundreds of footsteps on almost as many planets. "This life Ashanti 'gave' to you is a sham! It's no more the Dome of Jinn's life than the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic's. The family needs you. Return with me and put things to right."

"What's wrong that you cannot fix?" Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, unperturbed by Ishati's insinuation that he was a poor example of a Jedi.

Ishati's eyes flashed again. "You are the Dome, I am merely your heir. I can do nothing without your permission."

Qui-Gon gave a half-grin, knowing he had just found the trap. "And you propose I give that power of proxy without ascertaining what you will do with the family power? I think not. It's forbidden."

"Yes, yes, I know, I know," snapped Ishati with a dismissive wave. "The precious Jedi Code."

"It may mean nothing to you, Ishati, but it means everything to me." Qui-Gon nodded to the droid servant waiting to serve them the next course. "The Code I follow is as important to me as family power is to you. You claim that it is all important, but it is only important to you. It means little to me. I understand it's importance to Plumera and the Jinn family, but I have to look at a larger picture. A Jedi belongs to not one world, but all worlds. Our home is the Republic itself. I may have been born on Plumera and have blood family on Plumera, but my true family is much larger, my home world more important than single entities."

Ishati looked at his cousin sadly. "You understand nothing, cousin. We are everything. Without us, Plumera falls. When Plumera falls, so does the Republic."

Qui-Gon was so surprised by the overly arrogant statement that he began to laugh. Ishati grew enraged and Qui-Gon stemmed his laughter. "Do you actually believe that?" Qui-Gon asked in wonderment. "What nonsense! If the Republic didn't fall when Plumera was engulfed in a plague that wiped out more than half the population, then it won't if one family dynasty dies away."

"What do you know? You only see the big picture, cousin, not the minute details of everyday life." Ishati swiped the plate full of food off the table immediately after the droid set it down.

Qui-Gon looked dispassionately at his relative. "Even I have better manners than that and I am only a Jedi." His sarcasm was evident. He stood, thanked the droid for a reason he could not fathom and left the quarters. Once the doors hissed shut he leaned against them in abject relief.

"There's no reasoning with the man," he muttered to himself.

"You don't reason with those who have a healthy dose of power on the brain, Qui-Gon, or haven't you figured that out yet?" asked Ashanti. He jumped. He didn't see her anywhere so he looked up.

Whenever Ashanti wanted to stay out in the open but conspicuously unobvious, she hung upside down from the ceiling. Sure enough, claws sunk into the metal ceiling, tail curled around the toes of her boots and her odd way of hanging onto surfaces, Ashanti seemed to be waiting for him to emerge from verbal battle with his power-crazed relative.

"Eavesdropping, Master?" he asked, amused despite himself. One could never be angry at Ashanti for long. It just wasn't possible. He had forgiven her deception several days ago and with her short attention span, her anger at him had been long-forgotten.

"Of course." She seemed unconcerned about her breach of privacy and etiquette. It concerned her padawan so therefore she used whatever was necessary to see that he was all right. "Still on his high horse to get you to play familial god?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon began to walk down the hall toward his own quarters. Ashanti followed, scrambling across the ceiling as she did so. "He is exasperating."

"The power hungry usually are. The ambassadors are pains in my backside. I'm considering threatening them all with the lightsaber, chop off a couple of fingers for incentive and enforce the Trade Federation's idea. It's actually a sound one for once. The tolls need to go, though. Like there needs to be more taxes in the Republic shipping lanes." Ashanti passed him from her high-up perch and somersaulted to the ground, blocking his path.

He stopped. "What, tree elf?" he huffed, knowing she was going to say something to be helpful but would only wind up irritating him. She had that expression.

It was the wrong expression. "Do you feel that disturbance..." Her words were cut off as they were both tossed forward as if the ship had suddenly applied brakes. Qui-Gon crashed into his former master, feeling her grunt as his weight hit her full force.

The alarm klaxon went off and three ambassadors came charging out into the hallway, ready to voice complaints. "Get back in there!" Ashanti snapped. "We might be boarded by space pirates or something." They all rushed back in their rooms, no doubt locking themselves in as well. "Idiots," she groused as the two sprinted toward the bridge. "What else is going to go wrong?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Maneuver, for Quizia's sake!" shouted Ashanti and then found herself airborne as the ship was thrown forward again. She felt someone grab her tail and jerk her backward. _That had better be you, Padawan,_ she growled mentally.

_It is_, he answered in kind. _Now stop your whining._

"They are telling us to power down and prepare for boarding," one of the pilots informed them.

"Well, they aren't space pirates," noted Clea from behind her master's left shoulder. "They never demand anything. They just board and take."

"Thank you, little miss information network," growled Ashanti. She jerked a pilot from his chair. "I'll take over." She sat down, took a deep breath and soon the ship was spinning.

Manuevers that none of the pilots dared try flew from the controls at Ashanti's finger tips. Her teeth were gritted and teal eyes blazed in controlled anger. Her temper was legendary, explosive and short lived. The control she had on her species' natural temper was extraordinary, but it was still a cause for concern to those unused to her species. Titainiens rarely left their jungle planet of Maagalon and were therefore a race not many knew how to handle.

Qui-Gon shoved Clea into a chair and strapped her in, maintaining his sense of balance with more ease that Clea thought was possible. "Stay there," he ordered her and she nodded. Qui-Gon helped the other pilot from his seat and into a new one, taking his place in the co-pilot chair.

"What maneuver?" he asked, not even taking a deep breath as he prepared to join his former master in battle.

"Pak Four Oh Nine." Ashanti had to yell to be heard over the scream of fire and the taxed engines.

Clea watched as Qui-Gon nodded one time and then immersed himself in the Force. The white-skinned girl closed her eyes as well, channeling all her own Force energy to her master for his use.

Qui-Gon felt the surge of Clea's strength within him, the bond sealing. _Thank you, Padawan._ he told her mentally and he registered her surprise with a small smile.

_Welcome to the club, Clea_, chirped Ashanti in his head. _This is a rare thing. A padawan conversing mentally with her master and her master's master. Very keen, young lady. You are strong._

The two masters could feel Clea's pride glowing within them. _There goes those private conversations_, Ashanti joked as she turned the ship dead about and headed it straight for a small fighter pod heading their way.

_Like you guys were going to keep me in the dark anyway,_ Clea informed them both.

Qui-Gon was too busy concentrating to put in his own two-credits worth. He gritted his teeth as he blasted not only the fighter they had been on a head-on collision for but the other three surrounding it.

"Good shooting," encouraged Ashanti as she veered the craft left, then right, then right again. The confusing pattern of turns made it difficult for the attackers to get a bead on them. The randomness of it also stopped them from second-guessing her next move.

The Force flowed freely from the two of them and soon there was nothing left of their attackers but the main ship, a huge monstrous thing that Ashanti was surprised could maneuver at all in space. It had antennae everywhere and flashing red lights were almost as numerous through it's various portholes and protrusions.

"Well," one of the pilots said as the group of them viewed their attack, "now what?"

Ashanti turned and looked at him. "Not a clue," she said with a shrug. "I was hoping you guys might recognize it."

"Why us?" asked the pilot with a nervous laugh.

"Because you've taken six days to reach a port that keeps changing it's location and I've been reading your logs. You've been talking to these people for three days now." She gave a feral grin. "Who are they?"

Clea's blue lightsaber powered up and cut in half the blaster pistol the other pilot was drawing from his jacket. "Kindly answer her, please," Clea said pleasantly, "or I'll go for the hand."

Qui-Gon couldn't help it. He grinned at Clea's matter-of-fact and overly polite tone of voice.

"Well?" demanded Ashanti petulantly.

"Ishati Jinn paid us double what the Council did to transport you here. That's all I know." The other pilot edged back in his seat, hoping the lightsaber wouldn't come after him.

"Loyalty is a hard trait to get around here lately, Qui-Gon," complained Ashanti, claws unsheathing from her fingertips. The pilot fainted. The other one whimpered his distress. "The Council will be very disappointed, if they don't already know about this nonsense already."

"Odds are good that they knew something like this was going to happen," noted Clea, powering down her lightsaber and clipping it back onto her belt.

Qui-Gon and Ashanti nodded their agreement. "Clea, take them to the brig and make sure they stay there. Then meet us at Ishati's quarters. I think this all needs to be resolved." Clea followed her master's orders, shoving the guard to move faster when he staggered under his companion's dead weight.

Ashanti watched Qui-Gon closely as they strode toward the other Jinn's chambers. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Break the Code," Qui-Gon told her brusquely. "This nonsense won't be resolved any other way." He paused and looked at her before punching the button to enter Ishati's quarters. They could hear him rustling around hurriedly inside. "I'm going to make some new traditions while I'm at it. Name a trustworthy and capable female member of my family."

Ashanti looked at him as if he were crazed, but she complied. "Mai-Lin Jinn is a few years older than you and a very active community leader. She holds much respect in the family and the government. She would be a very able successor and proxy if that's what you want."

"Thank you."

Ashanti gave him one of her grins. "You're welcome. Can I watch the fireworks?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I'm going to contact the Plumeran prime minister first, then I'm going to speak with Mai-Lin. Maybe you should help get this transport to a space port and concentrate on the negotiations?" He paused. "How are you going to get them to agree anyway?"

Ashanti's grin grew into a broad smile. "That's my concern. You go talk to your people. That should keep you busy and out of my hair for awhile." Qui-Gon grunted and strode away, leaving the small alien woman alone. "Now if I can keep the Council from taking off my head at my next maneuver, I'll be okay."

She turned back to the main bridge with a grim look that would have given Qui-Gon great pause and cause for heart failure if he'd seen it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Can this be accomodated?" Qui-Gon leaned forward in the viewscreen, hoping that the closer contact would make his position more appealing.

"Dome Jinn, we realize the unusual circumstances of the whole familial situation and sympathize, but I might want to tell you that this is tradition you are breaking, not a law." The Prime Minister of Plumera leaned back in his chair, his weather-worn face shown signs of strain.

"So in this one instance, tradition can be have an exception made?" pressed Qui-Gon, wanting a straight answer.

The Prime Minister ran a hand down his face. "One other family about 400 years ago had circumstances not dissimilar to your own, only the Dome Hin-Kan was considered criminally insane and his successor was a distant cousin of no true blood relation. However, if you feel that Mai-Lin Jinn would be an adequate proxy in your stead, then we can't really say anything against it."

"There's a 'but' in there, Prime Minister," Qui-Gon remarked.

"But we ask that you take into consideration that you are not criminally insane and that you are the last of the male Jinn line. If you dissolve the family, it will merely be sooner than later."

"Meaning?" Qui-Gon frowned.

"Meaning, upon your death, the family will dissolve anyway. Females cannot pass along family names and titles on Plumera. You're just delaying the inevitable." The Prime Minister grimaced as he said the words, as if they were distasteful. "Plumera is losing many of it's great families in this way, Dome Jinn. It is a sad testament of our time that so much is being lost." The Prime Minister gave a half-smile. "I don't suppose you will ever children?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Jedi do not normally have families, Prime Minister, and those that do rarely see their offspring. Our lives are hard and well-traveled."

The Prime Minister gave a warm smile. "And truly blessed, I'm sure. I'm sorry I could not have been more of a help, Dome Jinn, and for what it is worth, you have my backing in whatever steps you may take."

Qui-Gon bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, and I wish you well also." He hit the switch on the monitor, cutting off the signal to his homeplanet.

Things were becoming complicated, more than they already were, and like his master before him, Qui-Gon hated it when things were complicated.

Clea wandered in, saw the deeply pensive look on her master's face and tried to retreat back out the door. Qui-Gon waylaid her. "Padawan."

Clea sighed and came back into the room. "Yes, Master?", hoping whatever assignment she was going to be given had nothing to do with his bothersome cousin or the equally exasperating master, Ashanti Vende.

"Can you think of any way to pass along a family line and name by using the female side?" Clea blinked at him stupidly for a moment, not following his train of thought. Qui-Gon clarified, relating his conversation with the Prime Minister and the Jinn family's lack of a male line, himself excluded.

Clea sat down across from her master and meditated on the problem. After a bit she shook her head negatively. "Not really," she admitted, "but maybe you should talk to this Mai-Lin Jinn. She will have better knowledge of the family than Ashanti or the Prime Minister. She might have an idea herself."

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully and put through the call to Mai-Lin Jinn of Plumera.

* * *

Ashanti piloted the transport not to a nearby space port, but the nearest empty planet she could find. Heine IV was a small colony planet whose main means of trade was triangular gemstones and several precious metals. It was a mining colony, rough yet loyal to the Republic.

After a quick talk with the leader of the colony, Ashanti ascertained that she had the use of one brig cell within the colony's security building and hoped that Yoda, and Qui-Gon, didn't kill her for her next hair-brained move. She'd given up talking, pleading, debating and trying to outmaneuver the bureaucrats on-board over the trade route dispute. At her wits end, something Qui-Gon would have muttered was a short trip, Ashanti decided to take the only course someone of her unpredictable standards could use as a last recourse.

Threatening to leave the stuffy, snobbish diplomats at the mercy of miners whose only redeeming features were that they knew where to find gems worthy of royalty and that they bathed once a month.

She set the transport in orbit and on autopilot, ordering Qui-Gon's apprentice to come up and babysit the bridge. Qui-Gon had agreed, sending a reluctant Clea Tari to the bridge to sit and moan over her pitiful lot in life. Ashanti politely knocked on the door of the first diplomat, entering her chambers when summoned.

By the fourth diplomat, Ashanti was sure that Yoda was going to not only kick her out of the Jedi Order, but probably kill her as well. However, three of the four she had spoken to so far were agreeing, one after being transported planetside for two hours, being leered at by various alien miners.

By the sixth and last diplomat, excluding the rather loony Ishati Jinn, Ashanti was feeling good about her plan. All five were agreeing on allowing the Trade Federation to regulate the trading lanes and excluding the use of taxation and tolls.

The sixth was a shoe-in and Ashanti relaxed. She loved it when a good plan came together. It was just too easy sometimes.

* * *

Mai-Lin Jinn, Qui-Gon surmised, was even more surprised to hear from him than the Prime Minister had been. When his face showed up on her viewscreen, she about fell out of her seat.

"Greetings, I am Qui-Gon Jinn," he began.

"No," corrected the woman whom he surmised was just a couple years younger than he, "you are the Dome Jinn."

He bowed his head to honor the correction. "I need to speak to you."

"I take it Ishati's there, causing mischief?" Mai-Lin was blunt, he had to give her that.

"Yes."

"Damn him, I knew he'd try to pull some stunt to get the title. You didn't give it to him, did you?" She seemed angered at the thought.

"No, that is what I wish to speak to you about. Are there any other male Jinns that could take over the line, no matter how distant and non-blood related?" Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair when the woman began shaking her head. "Then the line dies with me?"

Mai-Lin sighed. "Traditionally, yes, but there may be another way, though I hesitate to mention it. It will make me seem power hungry."

"Ashanti Vende has already sung your praises, Mai-Lin. I was going to ask you to be proxy in my stead until my death. Nothing you could say with Ashanti's recommendation could make you seem power hungry." Qui-Gon gave a smile at the mere thought and the outraged look Ashanti would be sporting right now if she knew.

"I'm going to be blunt with this, to save you time and grief. Dealing with our cousin can be a pain in the ass. Trust me, I know. The more time you save will be one more step ahead of his game that you'll be." Mai-Lin stopped and then blushed bright red. "I'm pregnant and won't be marrying. Technically my child will carry my last name of Jinn."

Qui-Gon stared at her. "Has the child's sex been determined?"

She nodded. "I'm having a son, so he will bear my last name."

Qui-Gon's face broke into a slow smile. "Excellent."

"I've been hesitating in attempting to contact you, considering the regulations you live under as a Jedi. I knew, though, that this problem would come up eventually and you'd have to deal with it whether you and the Jedi wanted you to." He nodded, a smile still plastered across his face.

Mai-Lin's hand went protectively over her stomach where the babe now grew within her. "May I make a suggestion, Dome Jinn?"

"Please," Qui-Gon spread his hands out placatingly. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"Set up someone as proxy in your stead, naming my son as your heir. That way Ishati can't use the fact that I'm female against your heir and I can train my son to do the family duty without any difficulties from the traditional sects and Ishati both." She gave him a sly look. "I would suggest Ashanti Vende. She keeps abreast of our world's politics and the family Jinn in particular. I've spoken with her many times." Mai-Lin blushed red again. "She's kept up with things in your stead so far. She might as well keep doing it."

Qui-Gon laughed. "Is that a polite way of saying Ashanti stuck her tail where it didn't belong?"

Mai-Lin laughed with him. "Your parents seemed to have meant a lot to her and her affection for them and you has transferred to the whole family. Did you know she's organized three family reunions in the past ten years?" Qui-Gon shook his head, amazed at his former master's involvement in his family. "She has been one of us for many years. She kept the family up-to-date with your progress as a student, apprentice and Jedi." Mai-Lin gave him a warm smile. "You have honored the family by being a Jedi, Dome Jinn, a great Jedi. The loss of our family head is nothing in comparison for what you have done for the family just by being who you are."

Qui-Gon blushed as he bowed his head at the compliment. "I hope to bring the family further honor by staying alive and continuing my path, Mai-Lin. I agree with your plan. What documents and other legal work have to been taken care of?" The two lapsed into a discussion of legalities that lasted a good half an hour.


	6. Chapter 6

When Ashanti swung by Qui-Gon's quarters later that evening, Qui-Gon greeted her at the door with a grin as smug as her own. She gave him a wary look. "What have you been doing?" she asked.

"Resolving my family problems. Are we at port?" he returned, settling back in his chair, moving his glass of blue juice out of the way of his elbows.

Ashanti squirmed in place. "Um, no, we're at the mining colony on Heine IV."

His brow furrowed. "The mining colony at Heine IV? Why?"

"Uh, resolving negotiations?" Ashanti said weakly, going to the other side of the table. She figured she could make the door before Qui-Gon reached her.

His blue eyes narrowed. "What did you do, and why do I know I'm going to regret giving you charge of the negotiations?"

"What did the Prime Minister say? Mai-Lin have any good suggestions? She's a bright one, that Mai-Lin." Ashanti changed the subject.

Qui-Gon changed it back. "You did something that Yoda's going to kill you for, didn't you?"

"It's resolved, Qui-Gon, let's leave it at that," soothed Ashanti, her tail so low to the ground it looked like a separate dead entity.

"No, you tell me what you did so I can figure out to get me and Clea out of whatever you got us into."

Ashanti moved both the table and chair between the two of them, thinking maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. "They all agreed to allow the Trade Federation to control the trade routes without taxation or tolls."

"Good, but how did you do that?" Qui-Gon stood up and walked between Ashanti and the door, sensing she'd make a bolt if she thought she could get away with it.

"Um."

"ASHANTI!" shouted Qui-Gon, his temper ready to explode.

Her shoulders slumped. "I threatened to leave them planetside if they didn't agree to something."

Qui-Gon stared at her, hoping he didn't hear right. "You did what?" he asked dumbly.

"I only had to transport down one for a couple of hours. The others fell in line with just the mere suggestion." Ashanti held up her hands defensively. "They are all happy now, Qui-Gon. They even ate dinner together without one argument or scowl. One even thanked me for helping out."

Qui-Gon turned away, shoulders shaking with laughter. He couldn't believe it, though why he should be surprised, he didn't know. In actuality, he was surprised Ashanti hadn't threatened them before hand.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Ashanti actually sounded worried about the possibility. He realized she didn't know he was laughing. Controlling his expression, he forced a deep frown, hoping his eyes wouldn't twinkle and give him away.

He turned back to her. "I won't kill you, but I want to be there when the Council does. They will want a full report and Master Yoda knows you too well. He'll know you pulled something underhanded."

"It wasn't underhanded," defended Ashanti, tail corkscrewing in consternation. "It was....uh....devious."

"Devious?" he repeated in disbelief. "I'd hate to know what you would consider illegal!"

Ashanti finally noticed the laughter in his eyes and sagged with relief. "Oh, good, you aren't angry."

"No, I'm not too angry," Qui-Gon clarified. "Come on, let's go talk to my cousin."

* * *

Clea had been getting bored and had finally fallen asleep. She'd done a full systems check to make sure the double-crossing pilots hadn't done any sabotage. She tested the weapons array to make sure that they were still functional and she'd verified with all decks that things were still secure.

There had been nothing else to do but take a nap.

She awoke with a start to see Ishati Jinn enter the bridge area. Without a word he walked right up to her and bashed her with a long staff. She rolled, taking the blow on her shoulder instead her forehead. She dashed behind a console and activated her lightsaber.

Ishati just stood there, his blue eyes, so similar to her master's she took note, gleaming madly. "Your master thinks to have someone dissolve the family," the man informed the apprentice.

"Probably," Clea agreed, edging further away from him.

"I'm going to stop him and you're going to be how I do that."

"Yeah?" asked Clea, wishing she were anywhere than there, something she'd been doing all afternoon.

"Yes." Ishati smiled and moved his right hand. The Force warned the apprentice but she didn't react quickly enough. Her last coherent thought was that the ability to tap into the Force obviously didn't just occur with Qui-Gon in the Jinn family. A wrench flew into the nape of her neck, knocking the pale skinned girl cold.

* * *

Qui-Gon and Ashanti were standing in Ishati's quarters, frowning at the emptiness of it. "His clothes, his datapads, everything is gone," Ashanti was muttering as she jerked one drawer after another open, looking for some sign of life.

Qui-Gon was out the door in a flash, shouting Clea's name. Ashanti darted after him. She had no idea what had happened but she had felt the disturbance in the Force and the pain that flashed through Qui-Gon had been very apparent. The two Jedi made a mad dash for the bridge but when they burst into the small room, it was empty.

The two looked at each other and said in unison, "Escape pods." They turned on their heels and head below decks.

Too late. The hatch just closed and fired when they skidded to a halt at the pod deck. "In Quizia's name!" blasphemed Ashanti, beating her fists and tail against the hatch door. The two of them watched the pod enter the atmosphere. "They could land anywhere. We need to contact the mining colony."

They raced back to the bridge. Ashanti collapsed in the chair next to the communications array. The screen lit up as she punched the coordinates to the miners' communications buoy.

"Calling back again so soon, Ashanti Vende?" asked the amused mining leader. His grimy face had a white slash where his teeth broke up the dirt.

"We have a situation. One of our guests on board has gone off his cracker, kidnapping the Jedi apprentice with us. He escaped in an escape pod, but he wasn't heading for the colony base. Is there somewhere else he could be going?" Ashanti wasted no words.

Neither did the mining leader. "Yes, there's a small volcanic lake about twelve miles east of here. Get down here and I'll take you and a security contingent there." Qui-Gon was already out the door with Ashanti not far behind. She stopped long enough to grab several of the diplomats and sending them up to the bridge, giving a summary of what had just occurred. Qui-Gon was firing a small shuttle pod's engines as she clambered on board.

They rode in silence to the surface, each trying to get a bead through the Force on where the apprentice was at. Qui-Gon could sense that she was alive and basically unharmed, but Ashanti was sure that the girl might not be for long.

As they scrambled out of the shuttle, Ashanti warned Qui-Gon. "He's insane. More than I thought. Clea will try to out-think him using logic and the Force. We have to think as insanely as him."

"Shouldn't be difficult for you," retorted Qui-Gon worriedly. Ashanti let the comment pass.

"This way. I'm Dom Gitally. I've got two speeders ready. We'll take the east side of the lake. You take the west and we'll meet by the outcropping on volcanic rock on the north." The two Jedi nodded and got into the speeder, taking off to where the map indicator showed a large body of water.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, sending out feelers through his bond with Clea Tari, hoping that she'd regain consciousness enough to respond. Ashanti dodged rocks, boulders, bushes and giant trees as she drove to the west end of the twenty mile wide lake. The Force guided her hand and she did not question the path.

The Force was the know-it-all of everything, Ashanti knew, and could not argue the course she took. It wasn't like she knew otherwise anyway.

Within the hour, Ashanti parked the speeder next to the crashed escape pod. Clea's lightsaber was lying beside the pod's open door, it's open end facing toward a huge cliff face. The two Jedi looked up and saw an opening quite a ways up.

Ashanti was relieved to note that there were trees that reached to almost the cave opening. She began to climb, her claws sinking into the tender bark and her tail balancing haphazardly on tree limbs. Qui-Gon began climbing the cliff itself, a more slow-going path, but he couldn't climb the tree as well as Ashanti could.

Ashanti slipped several times in her haste to make it up, losing time and ground. She and Qui-Gon reached the opening at the same time and activated their lightsabers in perfect unison. The green blade of Qui-Gon's lightsaber lit the cave eerily when he went in first and the glow turned brighter when Ashanti followed with her purple blade.

"ISHATI!" Qui-Gon shouted, his voice thundering through the cave and causing Ashanti to wince.

"Why don't you eliminate the element of surprise?" Ashanti groused sarcastically.

"He knows we're here. Can't you feel his madness in the Force?" Qui-Gon didn't even break stride. Ashanti stopped, her expression turning peculiar.

"What do you mean?"

"He's Force-sensitive, Ashanti. He probably took Clea by surprise, blocking her somehow. Or outmaneuvering her." Qui-Gon continued deeper into the cave, his cloak swirling as steam eddies caught the material and moved it.

Ashanti was unnerved. "How long have you known that?"

"I've suspected for a couple of days now, but everytime I tried to press at his mind through the Force there was a block. I figured he was either Force-sensitve or had a natural block of some kind." Qui-Gon disappeared around a corner and Ashanti hurried to catch up.

"Well, I wish you had told me this before hand."

Two more turns later they came face to face with Clea. She was hanging upside down over a volcanic pit. Far below lava bubbled and boiled. Clea's left eye was swollen shut and a gag blocked any sound coming from her mouth. Her good eye widened and the two Jedi turned behind them.

The blast knocked the two Jedi backward into the pit. Qui-Gon managed to fall more to the side, and with some help from the Force, he managed to land on one side of the hole.

Ashanti fell straight down.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping hold of his lightsaber, knowing that the battle against Ishati was going to take a lot out of him. He didn't dare look down to see if Ashanti splashed into the molten lava. He wasn't sure he'd make if he watched his beloved master melt out of his life.

"I was so sure that would catch both of you," pouted Ishati, his free hand balling into a fist. He leveled the blaster at his cousin and fired again. Qui-Gon blocked with the lightsaber, bouncing the blast harmlessly away from himself and Clea. The chamber they were in was small, with little room to maneuver around the hole. There was no back way around the hole and Qui-Gon wasn't exactly sure how Ishati got Clea up there to begin with.

Clea was struggling with her bonds and Qui-Gon satisfactorily noted that the ropes were slowly working loose. His padawan was capable and well-trained, he knew. She would get free. Qui-Gon focused all of his attention on Ishati.

"...called Mai-Lin and found out she's pregnant?" Ishati was saying as he fired blast after blast at his cousin. "Is that your new heir, cousin?"

Qui-Gon blocked each blast, slowly blocking them to where they bounced closer and closer to Ishati. Ishati didn't seem to notice. "Yes, Mai-Lin's child is my heir. You obviously can't handle the stress."

Ishati gritted his teeth but jumped back into the chamber wall when Ashanti's purple blade shot up and over the side, imbedding itself where he had been standing. The blade immediately shut off. Ashanti controlled her blade's power and strength through the Force, one of the few Jedi who could control their weapon without a switch.

Ishati, not knowing this, eagerly reach for the blade, giving Qui-Gon the opening he needed. He leaped across, tackling Ishati and sending the two of them rolling out of the cavern in a power struggle for the blaster.

Ashanti climbed out of the pit looking a little singed and grumpy, but relatively unharmed. Attaching herself in that peculiar way of her species, Ashanti climbed up the wall and across the ceiling to where the apprentice hung upside down and still struggled with her bonds.

"Hold still or you're down there. Trust me, a tropical vacation it isn't." Clea tensed as Ashanti's tail wrapped around her waist and lowered her the right side of the pit. The apprentice shook off her bonds and pulled off the gag, squinting at the diminutive master as she flipped to an upright position on the floor.

"He's going to kill Qui-Gon," she panted.

Ashanti shrugged. "Doubt it. Qui-Gon knows I'll never forgive him if he dies without my permission."

Clea didn't blink at the absurd comment but bolted out of the volcanic chamber. "This thing could blow!" she shouted.

"Tell me about it!" Ashanti shouted back. "The lava level is rising at a quick pace!"

The two reached the outdoors and saw Qui-Gon and Ishati still fighting each other. Qui-Gon couldn't get far enough away to use his lightsaber. Ishati stayed close enough to Qui-Gon that the weapon was useless.

It looked like they had rolled down the cliff. Their clothes were torn and shredded and grass and rock clung to their hair. Ashanti leaped out of the hole and down into the tree she had climbed to come up. Clea, throwing common sense and caution to the wind, followed. The two broke new records getting to the ground, Ashanti far more gracefully that Clea, but the fight was over by the time they got down.

Qui-Gon grabbed a rock in the midst of the rolling around on the ground and had been trying to get his primitive weapon to smash Ishati's head. Ishati, sensing each move Qui-Gon made, adequately blocked each maneuver Qui-Gon made.

A tree limb snapping above them caused Ishati to look up, giving Qui-Gon the opportunity he needed. He bashed his cousin in the head, felling the madman with the heavy blow.

He was panting when his padawan and former master landed on the ground. "We have to leave, now!" Ashanti panted. "This whole place is an underground volcano and at the rate the lava was rising as I was climbing up the pit indicates it's not going to be quiet for long."

Qui-Gon nodded and hoisted his relative over his shoulder. Clea climbed into the speeder and Ashanti began to contact the other search party, giving them warning and evacuation notice.

Ishati never woke up.


	7. Chapter 7

"Disappointed I am, Ashanti," sighed Master Yoda with a heavy frown. He wasn't the only one and he was gratified to note that Ashanti was looking chagrined because of her actions.

"We did save the miners, Master Yoda," she felt obliged to point out half-heartedly.

"Lame excuse," he snapped impatiently. "Outright break Code you did! Unacceptable this is!" She squared her shoulders, ready to take whatever punishment that would be meted out.

Qui-Gon Jinn and Clea Tari stood behind Ashanti and to her left, having already given their report and taken their own due. Qui-Gon was relieved that it wasn't too serious on their part. They were confined to the Temple for three months. He was actually relieved, for it would give him time to get family affairs in order and do some extra Force training with Clea. Their bond was growing stronger with each passing moment.

Her faith and strength had been what kept him from becoming too worried during her short kidnapping by his cousin. Qui-Gon was gratified to note that she seemed more sure of herself as his apprentice now, more secure in the knowledge that they did indeed belong together. Her doubts were melting away.

Ashanti, though, was in deep, deep trouble. Her only saving grace was that both the Trade Federation and the diplomats gave no ill-reports and actually seemed pleased with the results. Already the trading lanes were clearing up and goods and supplies were reaching their destinations without too much hassle.

The Council was still unimpressed with her method of gaining cooperation.

"Severe the punishment must be, Ashanti," Yoda was growling at his own former padawan. Qui-Gon turned his attention to Ashanti.

"Yes, Master Yoda," she intoned as he had seen her do countless times at countless reprimands.

"We have decided your next assignment more than ample punishment, Master Vende," said Yaddle, another of Yoda's species, though centuries younger.

"Yes, Master," Ashanti intoned again, wincing at what it could be.

"Guard moisture farmers near Gardulla the Hutt's palace on Tattoine from B'Nag the Hutt. Fight over moisture farms causing disruptions in trade on Tattoine. Requested help the farmers have from Supreme Chancellor. Stay there for one month you will and solve problem with them."

Ashanti groaned inwardly. It was the perfect punishment for the Titainien and everyone present knew it. Not only did Ashanti hate Hutts, but it was on a planet guaranteed to drive her daft because of the lack of activity.

"All three dismissed." Yoda waved them away, still upset enough that he was afraid of saying something he would regret later. The two masters and apprentice beat a hasty retreat.

The door closed behind them and Ashanti sagged to the floor. "I will never do something that stupid again, I will never do something that stupid again," she chanted in litany.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at his apprentice, who had a huge grin on her face. "Well, look on the bright side, Ashanti, at least I'm letting you do the nasty stuff on Plumera too."

Ashanti shot him a dirty look. "Thanks, my dear former padawan."

"Thank Mai-Lin. It was her idea. Next time, watch where you stick your tail." Qui-Gon seemed unconcerned by his master's down expression. It wouldn't last long, he knew. Her natural perkiness would bubble up and she'd make the best of it, like she always did.

"Are the Plumerans sure that Ishati is criminally insane? That he won't stand trial?" asked Clea, as the three of them made their way through the twisting corridors of the Temple.

"Yes, he's already in an asylum," sighed Ashanti, tail lashing behind her. "Mai-Lin's status in the family has skyrocketed thanks to your brilliant plan. How did I get volunteered as proxy anyway?"

Qui-Gon laughed. "We knew you'd keep abreast of things anyway. Might as well give you a reason." Qui-Gon stopped and tugged on his apprentice's braid affectionately. "We have things to discuss and you have a trip to prepare for."

Ashanti wrinkled her nose at him. "Thanks a lot."

Qui-Gon and Clea turned to leave, but Qui-Gon turned back. "By the way, next time you organize a family reunion." Ashanti looked at him quizzically. "You might want to invite the head of the family." He winked at his tiny former master and walked away.

Ashanti's laughter followed him as he walked.


End file.
